whispered Mrs Trafford good-naturedly in a little aside to me. 'It will give you an idea of what is worn. Ask for Céleste, if I do not happen to be in the way, and I will tell her she is to shew you beforehand; for she knows how particular I am. She will put you up to all sorts of things if you make friends with her. You can't conceive how much those French maids know about improving the figure and complexion and all that; though of course I do not need anything of the kind.'

I murmured something about being obliged; not to seem ungrateful for what was evidently meant to be a kindness.

'Oh, you are quite welcome.' Then lowering her voice again: 'He is a dear! How long have you been engaged?'

'Nearly ten years.'

'Ten years!'

'Mr Dallas has been abroad some years, and has only just returned,' I said, seeing no necessity for making a mystery about it.

'And kept true to you all that time! He must be good! So handsome too—so very handsome. All the heroes in the books are big, and have broad shoulders now;' sentimentally. 'His beard just the right colour too! How you must dote upon him, and how jealous you must be! Between ourselves, I could hardly bear Arthur to be out of my sight before we were married. It's different now, of course; if he does not behave well, I can stop his allowance, you know. That would be only fair.'

This seemed to confirm the rumour which had reached us to the effect that when it came to be a question of settlements, Marian had proved to be sufficiently a woman of business to keep the power in her own hands, notwithstanding the angry remonstrances of her lover and his sister. Perhaps also it was true, as it was said to be, that he would have drawn back at the last moment, but for shame.

I made some indefinite reply about putting off the time for being jealous as long as possible.

'Well, I can only say that it is a good thing I did not see him before I saw Arthur, or else you might have had cause enough to be jealous! But you needn't be afraid now. I am not one of that sort!'

And with that parting assurance, Mrs Trafford went her way, talking loudly over her shoulder as she walked down the lane, to 'Caroline,' who followed in her wake, about the inconvenience of not being able to get into 'my carriage' at the gate.

We did not laugh over the bride's grandeur as we might have done had she been any one else; the remembrance of all that she had deprived Lilian of was too fresh upon us for that. And Lilian herself was in Marian's society reminded more vividly of the wrong which had been done to her mother.

'You were quite right, Mary,' said Philip to me when we were alone—alluding to the bridegroom. 'The poor wretch is punished enough! It's an awful punishment! By-the-bye, what was she whispering to you about all that time?'

'Offering me a view of the latest Paris fashions; and admiring you, ungrateful man that you are!' I smilingly replied. 'She thinks I must be terribly jealous.'

'Jealous;' reddening. 'What did she mean?'

'I suppose she thinks she would be jealous in my place,' I said, a little surprised at his manner.

'In—your place. I do not understand,' he returned, as it seemed to me now, even angrily.

I laid my hand upon his arm. 'Of course I only repeated it because of its absurdity, Philip. Between you and me, it would be "Away at once with either love or jealousy."'

He took my hand in his, lifted it to his lips, and then turned away without a word. Well, I did not object to such silent leave-takings; they were eloquent enough for me. But I must not jest again in that way, I told myself, as I slowly returned to the cottage again. Philip evidently did not like it. Oddly enough, the first thing Lilian said, when I met her at the gate, where she was waiting for me, was upon the same topic. She had, it appeared, heard the one ominous word in Marian's whispered talk to me.

'What was Mrs Trafford saying to you about jealousy, Mary?' she asked, in a low tone and with averted eyes, trifling as she spoke with my watch-chain.

Did she fancy that Marian was still inclined to be jealous of her? I wondered.

'Only some nonsense about my being jealous of Philip, dearie,' I lightly replied.

'Jealous!—jealous of—Philip? What did she mean?' she ejaculated, using the words he had used with the same manner and even more anger.

'She seems to consider it is only natural that I should be jealous of him, since she tells me that his beard is the fashionable colour for heroes this season; but she was good enough to assure me that I need not be afraid of her now; although things might have been different if she had seen him some time ago. So I feel quite safe.'

'O Mary, are you sure, are you sure?'—with a little hysterical laugh.

'Am I sure, Lilian! Do you too require an assurance that I am not likely to become jealous of Mrs Trafford! You are almost as bad as Philip, and that is saying a great deal. Why, Lilian, what is the matter?'

She was laughing and crying together, with her arms about me, as different from her usual self as it was possible to be.

'It's the—the heat, I think,' she murmured. 'Do not notice me. I am stupid to-night, Mary.'

'She has deceived herself; her love for Arthur Trafford is not yet dead; and she is suffering the shame which is natural to one of her nature at the discovery,' I thought. Inexpressibly pained, I silently drew her hand under my arm and led her into the cottage.